


The Addams family welcomes you

by LunaShakespeare19



Category: Addams Family - All Media Types, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, The Addams Family (Movies)
Genre: Crossover, Established Gomez Addams/ Morticia Addams, Established Relationship, Established Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, F/M, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Family Reunions, Fluff, Molly's Family - Freeform, Party, Partying, Romance, Sherlolly - Freeform, possibly ooc Wednesday Addams, post- TFP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:54:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27010831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaShakespeare19/pseuds/LunaShakespeare19
Summary: They're creepy and they're kookyMysterious and spooky.Have you ever wondered where Molly gets it from?Molly has decided it's time Sherlock meets her family.
Relationships: Gomez Addams/Morticia Addams, Morticia Addams & Molly Hooper, Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, Wednesday Addams & Molly Hooper
Comments: 11
Kudos: 127





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been watching the Addams Family movies and I couldn't stop thinking about how well Molly would fit in with all of them. Stay safe everyone.

Molly Hopper was strange, she had known this her whole life. Ever since she had found the dead bird in her garden, death had fascinated her. Ghost stories that would terrify other children delighted her and she found books describing gruesome murders to be relaxing bedtime reading. When she grew older and discovered the study of pathology, her path in life was set. Despite her timid nature, Molly was confident in who she was and had no desire to change anything about life. There was, however, one change that she was quite happy with; her relationship with Sherlock Holmes.  
Since the incident with his secret sister, the two had begun a romantic relationship that was proving to be quite beneficial to the two of them. After a year of dating and shorty moving in together, Molly thought it was time Sherlock met her family. Her father had died when she was quite young and her mother not long after, a broken heart they would say. With her mother having no living family, Molly was sent to live with her father’s relatives, more specifically his cousin Morticia’s family. They would soon be arriving at the family home where Molly had spent most of her childhood. She spoke happily to Sherlock about her relatives, particularly Wednesday.  
“She’s a little like you I suppose; keeps her feelings well controlled and has a taste for gore. You two should get along very well.” She assured him. “Just tell her about some of your more interesting cases.” Sherlock simply nodded and kept his eyes on the road while Molly took out her phone and called to let her relatives know they would be there soon.  
“Wednesday,” Morticia called. Wednesday, who was busy playing with her guillotine, did not turn around but she acknowledged her mother. “Molly will be here soon.”  
“Is she still bringing her friend?” Wednesday asked, spitting out the last word like it was poison, and not the good kind.  
“Yes, and I’m sure you and your brother won’t cause too much trouble, will you. He means a lot to Molly and you wouldn’t want to upset her too much would you?”  
Usually, Wednesday did not particularly care who she hurt, but Molly was different. Molly who she had spent endless nights going over post-mortem files and textbooks depicting the effects different poison had. Molly was probably one of the few people who should Wednesday's 'games’ cause fatal damage, she would be greatly inconvenienced.  
“I won’t leave any permanent damage,” Wednesday promised as she let the blade fall, severing the head of her doll.  
“MOLLY.” Gomez cheered, sweeping Molly off her feet and spinning her around as soon as she was through the door. While Molly was being greeted by her family, Sherlock took in his surroundings. He had never seen so many weapons and antiques outside of a museum, he would have to ask about the history of some of the weapons which he could have sworn had blood stains on them. Fascinating.  
“My Darling, that morgue is doing wonders for your complexion.” Morticia complimented. “So pale and mysterious.”  
“Is she not a beauty, Fester?” Gomez said.  
“Like a fresh corpse.” He smiled.  
“Sherlock, this is my cousin Morticia and her husband with their son Pugsley. Fester is Gomez’s older brother.” Molly introduced each of them.  
“You must be the detective she’s told us about.” Morticia smiled. She looked Sherlock up and down and gave an approving nod. “I’m sure you have some interesting stories for us.”  
“Enough to bore you with I’m sure.”  
“Who could ever be bored of tales of death and blood?” Gomez said sounding truly scandalized by the thought.  
“Do you have some body parts for us, Molly?” Pugsley asked, smiling sweetly as a child would when they asked for sweet. Sherlock found himself immediately liking the boy.  
“Not this time.” Molly apologized. “But I have some autopsy files that I can read you before bed, I have a decapitation and some poisonings.” She glanced up and saw Wednesday standing at the stairs. She smiled at the young girl, and although she didn’t smile back, Molly knew from the look in her eyes that she was happy to see her too.  
“Hello, Molly.” Wednesday greeted in her usual dry tone. “Welcome home.”  
“Sherlock this is Wednesday who I told you about.” Sherlock offered his hand for her to shake and Wednesday carefully took it.  
“Come.” Morticia clapped. “Mama is cooking. You must be famished after that long drive.”  
They all headed towards the kitchen and were greeted with the smell of… something. While Sherlock took a moment to get used to the strange smell, Molly breathed it all in. The familiar layers of dust, Granny’s cooking, and the faint smell of mildew all reminded her of a simpler time. While they ate Granny’s stew, Gomez and Morticia announced they were planning a ball for the following night to celebrate Molly’s homecoming.  
“I hope you can dance Sherlock,” Morticia said.  
“Quite well actually,” Sherlock assured her. “I actually taught my friend for his wedding.”  
“Marvellous, we’ll invite everyone,” Gomez announced.  
“Will they all be able to come on such short notice?”  
“Oh, we sent the invitations the same day you told us you were coming,” Fester assured her. Molly shook her head, she should have known they would do that. The Addams family were notorious for their parties and were always looking for an excuse to throw one. She always thought they would make a fortune as party planners. Knowing her family as well as she did, Molly made sure to pack a dress and that Sherlock had something to wear.  
While Molly talked happily with them about the party, Sherlock noticed Wednesday was staring at him. Her food remained untouched while she glared daggers at him. He deduced that that look must have chilled lesser men to the bone, but Sherlock Holmes was not a lesser man and stared right back at her. Wednesday was surprised by the fact that Sherlock did not stand down under her glare and she was tempted to break his concentration by throwing her fork in his eyes, but then she remembered what she promised her mother and kept her hand still. Once they finished eating, Morticia showed them to the ballroom which was just as Molly remembered.  
A wide circular room with shiny floors that had seen countless balls and celebrations. Arched windows framed from the outside with dead ivy and looked out into the family cemetery. It was one of Molly’s favourite rooms in the house, when she was little, she would sneak out of bed and go down to see who was there. Most of the time she was able to see Gomez and Morticia waltzing together. The way they looked into each other’s eyes, so in love and still so devoted to each other even after all this time.  
“Cara Mia,” Gomez spoke, reaching his hand out for Morticia who smiled as she took it. “How long has it been since we waltzed?”  
“Mon Cher, hours,” Morticia replied and the two began to dance to music that only they could hear. Molly reached for Sherlock’s hand and he squeezed her hand tight, watching the happy couple. She soon pulls him out of the room and shows him to her olds room where they would be staying.  
Molly flopped down on the bed while Sherlock inspected the room. He recognized some of the medical textbooks but there were some titles that were unfamiliar; ‘Poison for beginners’, ‘How to curse your enemies', and ‘Black Magic 101’.  
“Morticia tried to teach me some hexes but I didn’t do well. Some are just aren’t meant for it.” She explained casually like she wasn’t talking about magic.  
“I like them.” He told her. “You never mentioned them before.”  
“You never really asked before.”  
“No, I didn’t.” He mumbled, frowning. Even though Molly had forgiven him long ago for all the horrible things he had said to her, just another reason why she was too good for him, but he hadn’t quite forgiven himself. Every kiss and gentle touch she gave him just made him all the more determined to prove to her he would not squander this chance he had to be with her, fearful of losing her like he was sure he had after what his sister had done. As if reading his mind, Molly gave him a sweet kiss.  
“Don’t worry about it.” She assured him, stroking his curls that she adored. “You’ll get to meet everyone tomorrow night, I just hope you don’t get scared off.”  
“I have to deal with Mycroft, I bet he’s much worse than any of your family could be.” He kissed her to calm any more worries she may have, and they stayed like that for a little longer, sneaking kisses in as Molly told him more about her time in the house. After dinner, they sat in the drawing-room for some time until it was time for the children to go to bed.  
“Will you read us the autopsy files, please Molly,” Pugsley begged.  
“You did promise,” Wednesday added.  
“Yes, of course, let’s go get them.” Molly stood up and they each took one of her hands as they led her up the stairs.  
“They find her work interesting then?” Sherlock asked when they were gone.  
“Absolutely fascinated,” Morticia replied. “We’re so proud of everything she’s accomplished. Molly has always been a bright girl.”  
“I only wish her father could see her now, rather than watching from the great beyond,” Gomez added, a sad smile on his face. It was then that Sherlock noticed a change in Morticia’s expression. One second, she was shining with pride, and the next she looked concerned, perhaps it was the mention of her late cousin, Molly mentioned the two were very close. She then turned to Sherlock.  
“Sherlock, would you please join me in the cemetery, I’d like a word.” Before he could reply she stood and went to get her cloak. Sherlock put down his drink and followed after her.  
Meanwhile, up in the playroom, Wednesday and Pugsley were cuddled up with Molly while she showed them the files, she brought them. The one they were looking at was a poisoning, one of Sherlock’s cases. On his scale, it would be a five, but the method was still fascinating. It was an exotic poison that the killer had got from the internet of all places and it caused the victim to bleed from their eyes and mouth and once rigor mortis had sunk in, it turned the skin a blackish blue.  
“Did Sherlock solve the case?” Pugsley asked.  
“Yes, turns out it was a business rival who had a bit of a flare for the dramatics. Hoped that it would look like a health crisis rather than a simple murder. Sherlock found it quite boring apparently.”  
“Does he find lots of things boring?” Wednesday asked.  
“No, I just think he sets the bar too high.” With that, she closed the file and told them it was time for bed. Ignoring their cries of protest and the request for another file, she tucked Pugsley into bed and promised they would look again tomorrow. Once they were in Wednesday’s room, Molly tucked the covers tightly around Wednesday and her headless doll.  
“Are you sure about Sherlock?” She asked. Molly smiled she had not missed her cold stares towards him at lunch and her fingers inching towards the fork. She was actually quite pleased with her restraint.  
“He’s rough around the edges but he proves he loves me all the time. He’s very sorry for how he used to treat me.” Molly assured her. “Don’t worry, once you two start talking about all those grisly murders he solves, you’ll love him. Much better than those boring files.”  
“You’ll still read them, right?” Wednesday asked hopefully.  
“Of course I will.” Molly promised, giving Wednesday a kiss and then kissing the dolls' head. Molly switched off the light and Wednesday crossed her arms, falling into a restless sleep full of images of poison and death.


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock couldn’t help but observe how enchanting Mrs. Addams looked in her ebony cloak as they walked through the cemetery. Like a specter from one of those ridiculous horror movies, Molly insisted on watching, the ones who would like nothing more than to drag you into the darkness and you would happily let them because of how beautiful they were and how enticing they made the darkness seem. They walked in silence for a moment until they reached the headstones and she began to explain how they each died; poisonings, beheadings, angry mobs, so many fascinating cases. She directed his attention to the family credo.

“Sic gorgiamus allos subjectatos nunc.” She said in perfect pronunciation. 

“We gladly feast on those who would subdue us.” Sherlock translated. Her expression told him she was impressed with him and he found himself pleased with her silent praise.

“Molly is an Addams in all the ways that matter, no matter her name,” she began. “Her father and I were very close as children, he was brother rather than a cousin. Her mother although a lovely woman did not… quite fit in with us. I met Tom when I was in London before your return, very impressive by the way.”

“Molly made it all possible.” 

“Yes, she told us the whole story when you returned. She’s never hide anything from me for that long, but I understand her secrecy. Anyway, Tom, a pleasant boy but… he wasn’t what she needed. She needs someone who will challenge her, keep her mind sharp. I knew something was wrong when I saw the ring, but she had never brought him to see us, in fact, we knew more of you as her colleague than we did him as her fiancée, what does that tell you?” 

“I didn’t quite understand my feelings for her and when I came back, it was too late. I thought they would go away as quickly as they came, but I was wrong,” Sherlock confessed. Molly had always been special, but he could never put a name to it, never put a label like he could most things. Tom wasn’t good enough for her, that was clear but would a self-diagnosed sociopath who was a recovering drug addict be any better? It seems to her it was in the end. 

“The problem with some lovers is that they are looking for their other halves when they need to become whole themselves. It’s not two halves coming together, it’s two individuals who want to build a life and grow together,” She explained, her voice soft. “Gomez and I knew who we were when we met and we’ve grown together, I couldn’t see Molly growing with a man like that, but I can with you.” 

“Thank you, I think I’m growing because of her.” 

“Good. We like you Sherlock we really do but should the day ever come where Molly tells us that you have caused her pain, and not the pleasurable kind, well… you remember the credo.”

“I think should I ever be stupid enough to do that, she could easily make it look like a horrible accident and I think our friends could actually help her.” Sherlock gave a little laugh, thinking about what John and Lestrade would tell Mycroft; ‘Yes, Mr. Holmes he really did fall down the stairs, what bullet wound? There was no bullet.’ He wouldn’t even be surprised if Anthea helped them. His brother’s PA had grown quite fond of her. 

“I’m so glad we’re on the same page.” She smiled. “Now follow me, I’ll show you where Great- Uncle Beelzebub is. He was buried alive with maggots.” She was already a few paces ahead of him while he processed what she just said, before eagerly following her asking questions. Oh yes, he was certainly what her darling Molly needed.  
The next morning, over breakfast the family discussed the preparations for the ball that night. While Morticia, Molly, and Gomez talked about who would attending, Sherlock was listening to Fester and Pugsley’s conversation while ignoring Wednesday’s cold stares. They were talking about a prank they were planning for one of their neighbors, and it involved a bomb they seemed to be having trouble with. When Sherlock offered his assistance, the two looked at him with wide eyes before pulling him from the table and taking him to Fester’s room where the half-made bomb was. 

“When did Pugsley get interested in explosives?” Molly asked.

“Oh, that’s quite a new thing,” Morticia explained, sipping her tea. “He was given a small grenade by Cousin It for his birthday, and it just went from there.”

“Will It be coming tonight?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Gomez assured her. “He wouldn’t miss your homecoming.”

Meanwhile, Fester and Pugsley looked over Sherlock’s shoulders while he worked on the explosive in Fester’s room. He would ask for a tool and one of them would pass it to him. As he worked Pugsley asked if he would help them with some of their other projects, being so impressed 

“How do you know so much?” Pugsley asked. 

“Part of my job I guess, you never know when something may be found useful.”

“Have you ever been this close to bomb before?” Pugsley asked, his tone was just as excited as it was when he asked Molly if she had brought them any body parts the day before. He internally smiled, glad that he was bonding with at least one of the younger Addams. 

“Not as many times as you would think; a few years ago a friend and I were close to one, but I was able to switch it off.”

“What wire did you cut?”

“Ah that’s the trick, most of the time there’s a switch in case something goes wrong. Terrorists can be quite boring,” Sherlock mumbled, before asking for one of them to hand him a screwdriver. He tightened a few more screws and closed the panel. He handed the final product to Pugsley and told him to try it out. Pugsley happily ran out of the room to play with his new toy, Fester slapped Sherlock on the shoulder, laughing. 

“He’s going to love you forever now.”

“I wish Wednesday was as easy.”

“Oh don’t worry about her, she’s just protective of Molly and you’re the first boyfriend she’s brought home,” Fester explained. “Come, let’s go see how it turned out.”

The rest of the morning was spent testing the bomb and working on some more of Fester and Pugsley’s plans. He had to admit, they were both quite brilliant and there was a method to their madness. He found their company to be quite stimulating and he was able to pick up a few things he believed to be useful to file away for future cases. He didn’t see Molly until lunch, she had been with Morticia and Wednesday while he worked on the bomb. The ladies had been in the greenhouse, tending to Morticia’s roses and poison plants.  
While they worked, Wednesday observed her cousin. Molly had always been more expressive than Wednesday, which she would have found pathetic in most people, but she tolerated it in Molly. The last two years when she came to visit them, there was clearly something on her mind, but she just wouldn’t budge, no matter how much Wednesday tortured her. When Sherlock came back, she came to them and told them everything; how he came to her in the lab, how she helped find a look-alike, and then performed the autopsy. That was when all the pieces fell into place. Wednesday was never that fond of Sherlock to begin with, all the pain and turmoil he had caused her over the years, and not the good kind, and then he made her lie to her own family for two years. When her mother told her that Sherlock would be joining Molly on her visit, as her boyfriend, she made sure her knives were sharpened. 

Meanwhile, with Fester and Pugsley preoccupied with their bomb, Sherlock took a walk around her house. He found himself in the library. Molly told him that this was one of her favorite parts of the house, she had spent so much of her childhood reading and studying here. He could almost picture a younger Molly with her head in a book, wearing another one of her horrible jumpers. He was browsing a shelf when he heard the distinct sound of a blade. He glanced to his right and saw another sword, a foil to be precise. When he heard footsteps, he grabbed the sword and moved to a defensive position. Suddenly, Gomez was right in front of him and smiling like a mad man. 

Gomez did not hold back. He lunged towards Sherlock who stumbled for a second before getting his bearings and moving into an attack. Lunge met parry, disengage met counterattack. A graceful dance that to the rest of the world looked rehearsed. Sherlock had been in a sword fight more than once over the years and had come out of them mostly intact (there was one particular scar Molly found quite sexy). Usually, those opponents had been no match for him, but Gomez was a seasoned athlete, who if he really wanted to, could probably slice Sherlock to pieces. The notion was extremely energizing. 

“You’re very good,” Gomez complimented. “You’ve done this before?”

“A number of cases I’ve solved have involved fencing,” Sherlock replied, taking a breath. 

“Molly is marvelous, I taught her myself.”

“She mentioned that on the way over, she also told me Morticia tried to teach her spells.”

“Ah yes,” Gomez smiled at the memory, so many wonderful explosions. “Molly is wonderful at many things, but the art of spells is not one of them. Her father was the same.” Gomez then turned to Sherlock with a serious expression that reminded him of his dear brother, except this one was actually quite terrifying. 

“Sherlock,” Gomez began, pouring them both a drink and handing Sherlock his. “Molly is like my own daughter and I see she has grown into a fine young woman who can make her own decisions. Normally I would be threatening you with pain beyond your wildest dreams and trust me you would not enjoy it, but I know she’s perfectly capable of doing that herself.”

“Her profession does make her a dangerous woman to anger, I’m actually surprised I’ve lasted this long.” He thought back when he got high to save John, had there been fewer people around, he was certain she would be stabbing him multiple times with a scalpel. 

“I never met Tom, but Morticia told me he was a pleasant enough young man,” his expression when he said ‘pleasant’ gave Sherlock the impression he thought Meat Dagger was anything but. He’d have to remember to tell them that story if they didn’t already know. “You seem like a better match and you can handle yourself in a sword fight, Tish tells me she doubted that he could.”

“I can protect her,” Sherlock assured him. 

“I know you can. You’ve both seen the darkness in the world, and you have embraced it, you have embraced it together and because of that your daemons will be able to happily dance with hers,” Gomez smiled widely, “Just like Tish and I.”

“How did you two meet?”

“It was a funeral, she was so pale and mysterious, an eternal beauty,” his smile turning wistful, his mind filling with thoughts of his beloved wife. “I proposed that very night.”

“I wish I hadn’t wasted so much time with Molly, I wish I had recognized what my feelings were sooner.”

“There’s no use dwelling on the past, my boy,” Gomez pattedd him on the shoulder and refilling his empty glass. “The past is gone and now you can focus on the future. Embrace her, spend each day wooing her like it’s that first day. Make her feel like the most sublime creature in the world and never miss an opportunity to show her how much you adore and desire her.” 

“I will,” Sherlock promised the man, countless thoughts running through his mind. 

“I know you will,” Gomez took a step back and raised his sword, moving into first position. “Ready for round two?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I looked up the fencing terms so this chapter could be more realistic. If anyone actually fences and I got something really wrong just let me know. My plan is to have this done by Halloween so the final chapter should be ready soon and yes, Sherlock and Molly are going to dance.


	3. Chapter 3

When the sunset and the moon was high in the sky, the house came to life. The ballroom was full of the most unusual guests. Sherlock had been to many parties like this; somewhere for cases and others were because Mycroft dragged him there for whatever reason, but this one was different. Guests of all shapes and sizes, literally, Sherlock had been introduced to so many colorful characters, he found cousin It to be particularly interesting, and the twins' Flora and Fauna were delightful. The two made him promise to tell them about some of his cases before they went to find Fester. 

Once the twins left him, he noticed Wednesday standing in the corner, surveying the scene like a predator searching for her prey. She reminded him of The Woman, which terrified him more than anything else he had seen on this visit. Swallowing the last of his wince, he approached her.

“You know what this reminds me of?” he began not giving her time to speak. “A case I solved last year; it was a mascaraed ball and the killer wore a Red Deathmask”

“Poe,” she added. “The mask which concealed the visage was made so nearly to resemble the countenance of a stiffened corpse.”

“Exactly,” he smirked, not at all surprised she knew the story, it was one of Molly’s favorite. “But he was one of five, so therein lies the challenge.”

“How did you do it?”

“The key was the victim’s fiancée, it seemed she had caught the killer’s eye but did not return his affection. He believed killing the poor man would make her his. He was a music teacher."

“How delightfully delusional.”

“It is isn’t it? Last I heard he was in an asylum and the poor woman had left London.”

“Molly told us about a poison victim last night, do you have any more like that?”

“Yeah loads,” he assured her. 

“Poison seems like such a lazy way to kill.” 

“I have some mutilations if you’re interested.” She nodded her approval and informed him they would talk later before she disappeared into the crowd. As quickly as she left, Molly appeared next to him. 

“How are you doing?” Molly asked, handing him a glass of wine. She was dressed in a beautiful black lace dress that was longer in the back, making it easier for her to move and dance. 

“Okay, I think,” he replied, taking a sip. “I admit, everyone here is actually quite fascinating, although I’m glad Lestrade isn’t here.” He smirked, thinking about the conversation she had overheard that would have definitely had the officer reach for his handcuffs. Before Molly could comment the music suddenly stopped and Gomez and Morticia moved to the center of the ballroom. 

“Family, friends, fiends, and madmen,” he greeted. “We are gathered to welcome home our beloved Molly.” At the mention of her name, the room burst into applause and cheers. 

“Joining her is her new man, Sherlock Holmes who many of you will be familiar with,” Morticia introduced him, “Who knows, perhaps he has come across some of our handiwork over the years.” This made the guests laugh. “Tonight, we dance, we drink, we celebrate our Molly and all she has accomplished, we celebrate her new love and we welcome Sherlock into our family,” with that, the music began to play again and Gomez and Morticia began to dance. They waltzed across the floor with such grace, it was nothing like Sherlock had ever seen, the whole room was captivated by their dance. Even the most renowned dancers could not have achieved such movement. The movements were so in sync, it was like second nature to them, as if they had both learned to dance before they learned to walk and found the perfect partner in each other. 

Molly took his hand and guided him to the floor, as first, he hesitated, not wanting to disturb the perfect dance. Her eyes, as if knowing his thoughts, seemed to assure him they wouldn’t. She took his hands in hers and soon they too joined in the dance. Their movements were not as fluid as Gomez and Morticia’s, but they had their own grace. There was a slight stumble here and there, but anyone watching was unlikely to notice. Sherlock forgot everything, blocked everything out that wasn’t to do with Molly. The soft fabric of her dress under his fingertips, the smell of her perfume, and the wine on her breath. She was a vision; be it dressed like she was now or when she wore her lab coat and unflattering jumpers. A morbid angel who had chosen to shed her light on him. If his past self could have seen him now, he would have scoffed at the sentiment and called him a fool. Perhaps he was a fool, but he was a happy fool.

Wednesday stood to the side when the music first began to play, she did not pay as much attention to her parents as the other guests did, having seen them dance so often. What truly caught her attention was Molly and Sherlock’s dance. They were not as flawless as her parents, that would take time. Sherlock looked at her cousin like she was a mystery to solve. His hold on her was gentle and yet firm; if she wanted to be set free, if she wanted him to let her go, he would do it despite the pain it would cause him, he would do it for her. The firmness was to warn anyone who tried to take her from him that they would suffer for it. The world could be burning around them, the flames blistering their skin, and yet they would still hold each other close until there was nothing but ash and blackened bones. 

The music soon stopped, and the couples paused, seeming to ignore the applauds around them, only having eyes for each other. When the spell broke and they came back to reality, Morticia and Gomez went to mingle while Molly went in search of food, the dance having tired her. Sherlock’s eyes followed her until she disappeared, and it was then that Wednesday approached him, requesting he follow her out into the cemetery. 

Wednesday was a few paces in front of Sherlock. She seemed She reminded him so much of her mother from when they spoke the night before. She didn’t at all look out of place in the cemetery, surrounded by death, perhaps it was simply because she grew up here, or maybe it was just her nature. She might not have been as expressive as Molly, but the two were truly one and the same; a dark essence wrapped up in a small, unsuspecting package. Two souls that saw the darkness in the world and chose to embrace it rather than fear it. Suddenly she stopped and turned to face him, the music from the party playing in the distance. 

“Would you die for her?” She asked, staring him down as many a criminal had in the past. 

“In a way I already have,” he replied 

“What if this time it was permanent?” she challenged, “If you were to never return, would you die for her?” 

“I would do it with a smile on my face.”

“Would you kill her for her?”

“Without hesitation.” 

“Would you…”

“I’d crawl through hell for her, through the fire, and ash and all that nonsense, but I would do it all for her.”

“I pity you.”

“You know what? So do I sometimes. I’ve solved so many cases where the motive has been love, and all the while it remained so foreign to me, now I think I understand, or I’m at least starting to.” 

“Love is a pit, a dark pit that will swallow you up,” Wednesday spoke, her expression softening, but only slightly. Her whole life, she had watched her mother and father express their love, content in their madness. “And yet, you find yourself not caring, you’re happy to fall.”

“It easier with the person you love.” He wouldn't bother trying to tell her she would understand one day, he didn't want to talk down to her. Who was he to advise her on these sorts of matters? 

“If you harm her, cause her any pain and I find out, you won’t be able to come back. They won’t be able to find enough pieces of you to bury,” her voice as cold as the bodies buried beneath their feet, Sherlock stuck his hand out and she took it.

“I would expect nothing less,” he told her, ignoring the sting of her nails as they dug into his skin. “She loves you very much.”

“I know.” 

“Sherlock, Wednesday,” a voice called out. Molly made her way over. She eyed the two of them suspiciously 

“Molly,” he greeted, taking her in his arms. “We were just talking.”

“Yes, we were,” Wednesday nodded, “he’s going to tell me about mutilations later. I’ll leave you two be.” She headed back to the party, fading into the darkness as if she belonged there. She probably did. 

“She didn’t try to kill you, did she?”

“No, just a little chat. You were right; we do have a lot in common.” He assured her, stroking her arm as the goosebumps started to rise. 

“So what do you think of… everyone.” She asked, slightly fearful of his answer. 

“Honestly; they’re all lunatics and I imagine most of the people attending that party have committed some sort of crime and anyone in their right mind would run.”

“I see.”

“Good thing I’m not,” he whispered, pulling her closer until there was no space between them. 

“Not what?” she asked

“In my right mind.” Without another word, he dipped her and gave her a passionate kiss which she returned. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So happy to have got this done in time for Halloween. I hope you all enjoyed it. Did anyone notice another gothic reference? let me know in the comments. Happy Halloween and stay safe.


End file.
